


Dragon Warrior

by cortchuzska



Series: The Sands of Time [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortchuzska/pseuds/cortchuzska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p class="intro">
  <em>“Rhaenys was a child too. Prince Rhaegar’s daughter. A precious little thing, younger than your girls. She had a small black kitten she called Balerion, did you know? I always wondered what happened to him. Rhaenys liked to pretend he was the true Balerion, the Black Dread of old, but I imagine the Lannisters taught her the difference between a kitten and a dragon quick enough, the day they broke down her door.”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Warrior

The battle screams in the city below her waxed and waned, but were steadily approaching. A sudden commotion rose at the inner bailey gates.

“Balerion, here!” Rhaenys Targaryen steadied her voice to a commanding note befitting a dragon rider, or a warrior queen addressing her host. “You are a very, very bad dragon.” She couldn't help but drop to a faintly plaintive tone. “The Black Dread does not run away in fear.”

For Rhaenys was a frightened girl about three, even if her name was a conquering queen's one, and Balerion her almost as frightened kitten. She had no other playmate: her father had been away for so long she could scarcely remember him, her mother was always sick, and so sad; grandpa scared her, and Viserys had left with grandma for Dragonstone. Ser Jaime was the only one who would play with her, but he was nowhere to be found, and Rhaenys felt so very lonely.

\--o--

“Can a woman be a warrior, and a conqueror?” She had once asked uncle Lewyn, the first time she had heard about her namesake, for he was a Kingsguard knight, and a famed warrior himself.

“Of course; and Rhaenys Targaryen was not the only one. Before her, Queen Nymeria conquered Dorne, with ten thousand ships; and even she is a forebear of yours.”

The royal court would not likely approve of the girl warlike disposition – _Dornishwomen do not know decencies_ , but it was entirely Rhaegar's doing; what else could be his purpose in naming his children Rhaenys and Aegon?

He scooped her up and nuzzled her. “You are a daughter of Dorne, a Nymeros Martell as I am; never forget that, little dragon-princess.”

“When I'll grow up, I will be a warrior too.” Rhaenys boldly resolved. “And I'll ride a dragon. Which one was the most frightening?” Ships didn't appeal as much to a three-years child's imagination, and her colouring notwithstanding, she was more of a Targaryen than of a Martell. “May I have a dragon, on my name-day?”

“Balerion, the Black Dread; and you are still too young to ride one.” Lewyn was not going to tell her dragons were no more and disabuse a little girl of her sweet dragon dreams, an unattainable feat even with grown-up Targaryen princes.

So it came to pass that the fluffy black kitten uncle Lewyn gave her as a farewell gift and a keepsake when he left for the Trident was named Balerion.

\--o--

Mother had told her to play hide-and-seek with him, and not let _them_ catch her. She glimpsed a tiny tail around a corner, and scampered behind him, trying to pay no mind to the shouting voices and heavy footsteps following her, for the Red Keep was a maze she knew as well as Balerion and where she could sneak almost as him. Through winding passageways and cat flaps she found herself in her father's bedchamber.

She casually lifted dark draperies, climbed up a chest to have a nonchalant look at the bookshelves, as she did not know his favourite hideaway. She plunged down, under her father's bed, and giggled “Found you!” when a soft purr welcomed her. The world down there was dusty and dusky, muffled and cosy; she could see why Balerion loved it, even if she did not like much dark places before. She snuggled beside him, holding him close; his little heart was beating faster than usual, as hers. “A dragon is never afraid, Balerion.”

They heard the huge weirwood door slammed forcefully open, and saw ironclad feet stomping around.

“There is no one here.”

“Something moved under the bed.”

Balerion mewed.

“Fools. It's only a cat.”

A load laughter; then sudden silence. They went away; or so she thought.

“Balerion, please, hush!” beseeched Rhaenys, but the fight and its noise were long over, and the thick bed coverlet didn't much to deaden enough her shrill voice.

Spiked spears poked under the bed, and she rolled sideways, still clenching Balerion – she would not let go of her only friend – till a hard hand closed around her leg and dragged her out.

For a moment – a very brief one, for she was just shy of three – both the fierce blood of the first Rhaenys and of queen Nymeria seethed in her, and their bravery shone even brighter in her fear. Rhaenys and Balerion fought together, and bit, and clawed and kicked, and screamed and hissed, while they were stabbing at them.

Then Rhaenys went limp, and Balerion bleeding bolted up a bedpost, where he stood growling and puffing up his fur and huffed at them fiercely as any dragon, and he would have turned them into ashes, if anger only could; but he was not one, for even a baby dragon can breathe fire on his foes - upon _hers_ , and for all his wild huffing and hissing, he earned himself just a dismissive kick.

“Bloody Seven, Amory! Aren't you yet over with it?”

“Lousy job, Clegane, I tell you.” He sucked a bloody wrist. “A little child and a needle-clawed kitten putting up more fight than craven Kingslanders.” He spat and mopped at a trickle of blood on his brow. “The rabid cat even tried to scratch me an eye out. Such wounds will never earn me a Lordship.”


End file.
